


Comfort

by Carry_On_Destiel



Series: Taking it Slow [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring Dean, Comfort/Angst, Gen, Hurt Castiel, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-06-08 20:08:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6871534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carry_On_Destiel/pseuds/Carry_On_Destiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean tries to comfort Cas after he is freed from Lucifer's clutches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfort

After Chuck had returned Lucifer to his own vessel, The Lord and The Devil retreated to the privacy of the study to plot their next move. Or to kill each other, maybe. Dean didn't really care what they were doing right now; he had more important things to worry about. Sam and Dean helped their traumatized friend back to his old room and then Sam hurried off, muttering about making a pot of tea. Cas barely nodded in response. His blue eyes looked heavy and dull. The angel refused to glance in Dean's direction as he shrugged out of his trench coat and threw it on the floor. Dean watched awkwardly as Castiel shuffled uncomfortably in the center of the room then finally sank onto the edge of the bed. The hunter was about to excuse himself, to give the angel his privacy when Cas spoke.  
  
"Dean..." his voice was rough, painfully dry and raspy. Cas's hands were shaking. "Dean. I'm so sorry."  
  
The elder Winchester sighed, "Cas... You don't - you don't have to apologize. I know why you did it." He moved farther into the room, allowing the door to swing closed behind him, "I'm just glad you're okay. That's all that matters."  
  
Cas stared at his knees, unable to make eye contact, "I was foolish. It was stupid of me to trust him." His hands balled into fists, "Why are they so cruel, Dean?" He looked up pleadingly, "They're my family! Why do they all try to use me like this?" The angel's shoulders sagged, "Even... even my Father."  
  
Dean lowered himself slowly onto the bed next to Castiel, "I dunno, Cas... But they're not your _only_ family." Dean clapped a reassuring hand on Cas's shoulder, trying to muster a winning smile, "You'll always have me. Us, I mean. Me 'n Sam."  
  
Cas attempted to return the smile, but his eyes were glossy with tears, "I know, Dean. That's what scares me the most."  
  
"What do you mean?" Dean frowned, hand falling from the angel's shoulder.  
  
"They know." Cas said bluntly, "They all know how much I care for you. They all want to use it against me. Every angel in Heaven - and Hell - knows that you are my greatest weakness. I've never been adept at concealing my emotions." Cas did smile then; a twisted, self-deprecating thing, "Not that I ever _had_ emotions before I met you."  
  
Dean's heart was racing. He wet his lips unconsciously, trying to calm his pounding heart before Cas heard it, "Cas..."  
  
"That wasn't supposed to happen. Caring." Cas gazed, unseeing, at the bookshelf, "You were meant to be a tool. Nothing more." Castiel's eyes hardened, "A ' _means to an end_ ". But I screwed it up."  
  
Dean swallowed, "Why though?"  
  
Cas halted his dark musings, looking up in surprise; as though he'd forgotten Dean was there, "Why what?"  
  
"Why did you... Care? About me - us, I mean? Why..?"  
  
Castiel's eyes softened as he searched Dean's face, "I saw your Soul." he answered simply, "I felt its strength. Its compassion. Its vulnerability... I'd never encountered anything like it in all my centuries. You gave me _hope_ , Dean." Cas smiled again, a spark of genuine amusement lighting his eyes, "Then I got to know you and I understood, even better, why my Father loved his Creations so." He shook his head, "You were infuriating."  
  
Dean snorted, nudging the angel's arm, "Right back at ya, Feathers."  
  
Cas tilted his head, laying his cheek gently on Dean's shoulder in a trusting gesture. Dean froze. He couldn't breath. He didn't want to react at all, lest his faintest movement scare Cas away. The hunter frantically tried to remember what to do with his hands. Should he put an arm around Cas? In a totally platonic, comradely way of course. Or. . . Or maybe he could take the angel's hand. It was right there, on Cas's knee. Barely three inches away. Dean's fingers twitched longingly, but before he could make that leap, the door burst open.

  
"Hey guys, sorry it took so long." Sam was backing into the room, carrying a heavy silver tray, "Decided to make some sandwiches too."  
  
Cas lifted his head - reluctantly, it seemed, "Thank you, Sam. That was very kind."  
  
"No problem, Cas." Sam looked at Cas the way most people look at a 3-legged puppy at the pound, "I know what its like. Having Lucifer in your head is no picnic."  
  
Castiel's expression darkened again, "No. It really isn't."  
  
Dean moved a few inches away from Cas as Sam handed the angel a steaming mug of tea, prepared just the way Cas liked it. The hunter's shoulder was still warm and tingling faintly where Cas had rested his cheek. The trio sat in silence, devouring their generic-looking ham sandwiches as they waited for their tea to cool off. Dean couldn't help glancing at Cas every few seconds. He knew the angel's Grace was back to full-strength; Chuck had made sure of that. So really, Cas didn't _need_ the food to keep up his strength. Which meant he was eating for another reason. Habit, probably; Dean supposed. Or maybe just so he wouldn't have to talk anymore. Or maybe it was comfort food. Dean dragged his gaze away, reminding himself that it was creepy to stare.  
  
Cas chewed mechanically and swallowed the last bite, setting his plate on the night table, "Thank you for the meal, Sam." He rubbed his palms over his thighs in a weirdly anxious gesture, "It was very tasty."  
  
"Yeah," Dean agreed, leaning across Cas very briefly to stack his plate on top of the angel's, "It was good, Sammy. Thanks."  
  
Sam licked mustard from the corner of his mouth, nodding, "Least I could do. I'm the one who got us into this Lucifer mess in the first place."  
  
"That's not true, Sam." Cas rumbled, frowning at the younger brother, "I made the decision to accept Lucifer, not you. It was not your fault."  
  
"We could go around for days, trying to decide who to blame," Dean cut in before Sam could reply, "I accepted the Mark and went all Dark Side. That's where this all started. Its my fault."  
  
"Dean." Cas turned his intense gaze on Dean, "It wasn't your fault."  
  
"It doesn't matter whose fault it was. What matters is that we **are** gonna fix it." Dean interjected, getting to his feet. "We've got Chuck and Lucifer to back us up now. We're gonna end Amara for good this time. Then we can worry about the rest of it."  
  
"Yeah. That's right." Sam nodded, straightening up from where he was leaning against the dresser, "Amara is the top priority. We've handled Lucifer before, we can do it again." He gathered up the empty plates busily, "Speaking of which, I'm gonna go see what those two are doing. Maybe they've got a plan already." He nudged the door open with his toe, "You should rest, Cas. You still look pretty beat."  
  
"Yeah. I'll be out in a minute, Sam. Just gonna.. finish my tea." Dean muttered unnecessarily as Sam disappeared.  
  
The door clicked shut, leaving them alone in the quiet again. Dean cleared his throat nervously. He didn't know exactly why he was trying so hard to stay close to Cas. Its just that he had been so worried for weeks. From the moment he had realized that Cas was possessed by Lucifer, Dean had felt like there was a steel band tightening around his lungs and squeezing his heart out of his chest. He couldn't breathe, he could barely eat. All he cared about was finding Cas and bringing him home, no matter what the cost. And now that Cas was here, home, and safe... Dean couldn't bring himself to walk away now. He never wanted to let Cas out of his sight again.  
  
"Dean?" Cas's quiet gravelly voice snapped Dean back to the present. The angel was holding out Dean's cup of tea, "I think its cooled enough now."  
  
"Oh. Yeah." Dean wrapped both hands around the cup, fingers grazing Cas's hand and wrist, "Thanks." He stood there, sipping his tea, trying to ignore the flush of warmth that traveled from his fingertips to his ears at the subtle contact.  
  
"You can sit down again, Dean." Cas offered, sliding over to make more room on the bed, "Unless you wish to leave."  
  
Dean stared at the spot Cas indicated, mouth suddenly dry. If he sat down, Cas might touch him again. Lean against him. He might let Dean hold him and comfort him. Dean wanted to. More than anything, he wanted to wrap the angel in his arms and hold him close and safe forever. But how could he, without Cas noticing how Dean really felt? Even Cas, as naive as he was about human interaction would surely realize that Dean's heart shouldn't be pounding that loudly. That his hands shouldn't be shaking like they were. But Cas was staring up at the hunter with those vulnerable blue eyes, looking so lost and hurt and alone that Dean was sinking onto the mattress without even noticing it. He set his cup down blindly and looped an arm around his angel's shoulders.  
  
"I'm not going anywhere, Cas."


End file.
